Pancakes
by pengirl100and2
Summary: Canada always feels invisible. But now there is someone who sees...


**"**Nobody ever notices me," Canada sighed. He sunk deeper into his chair while the other countries laughed and danced and generally partied... It was Italy's birthday, and of course poor Canada didn't get an invitation. But he showed up anyways. Nothing personal, right? Just his general invisibilty as usual.

Italy and Germany, Russia and China, America and England. They all paired up as usual and Canada was alone, alone, alone.

He walked over to Italy, who refused to stop making pasta. "Hi, Italy."

Italy stirred the boiling noodles, oblivious and cheery.

Canada poked his face, and Italy began looking around. "Who was that?" He was still for a minute before shrugging and going back to stirring.

Canada poked him again. "Happy Birthday."

Italy frowned for very possibly the first time in his life. "What was that?"

Canada tugged at his hair. "Its me! Canada!"

Italy frowned and put a bit of butter in with the noodles before running over to Germany. "Germany! I keep feeling something poke my face and then it pulled my hair it makes me _scared, _oh _Germany_!" Italy wailed unhappily. Canada didn't hear Germany's response, but instead wandered over to look out the window. Nobody noticed him, ever. He watched the stars, and a bright drop of saltwater ran down one side of his face. He was a ghost wandering, doomed to be perpetually alone.

* * *

><p>Late that night, Canada was pouring maple syrup on pancakes, watching the familiar sugar drip out of the bottle. Comfort food. Moodily, he stabbed a bite and began chewing unhappily. Alone, always.<p>

That was why the sound of his doorbell scared him so much. Nervously he crept forwarded and glanced through the peephole. Was it maybe a robber checking to see if anyone was home?

It wasn't. He opened the door-

"Latvia, what the heck are you doing here?" The tiny, trembling country was unusually still, instead of being racked with quivers.

"Russia was drinking vodka with Finland and then China found them and they all started getting mad and fighting and Russia told us to get out and-" Latvia's voiced squeaked and he stopped. "Can I stay here for the night?"

"Sure, of course, I mean-" It was Canada's turn to stop. "You can see me."

Latvia looked puzzled. "Of course I can, you're not a ghost. Or are you?" He reached out to brush Canada's hand, and the warmth of his skin sent a dull spark up Canada's arm. "Nope. Not a ghost."

"Well... come in." Canada was still unnerved by the fact that he was having a conversation with another country.

Latvia came inside, and stopped again. "Pancakes? I love pancakes!"

"Really!"

"Russia never makes them, though." Who could resist those sweet cow eyes? Apparently, Russia. Canada began frying the leftover batter into round circles while the normally silent country chattered on. Canada handed him the plate and the bottle of syup, while the two resumed the meal.

They had odd, easy conversation over a hot meal, and more than once they'd look up to gaze into the eyes of the other. Every time, that gaze, that glimpse, was charged with lightning.

At one o clock, Latvia yawned and Canada noticed the time. He held the littler country's hand and showed him the guest room where he could sleep. The whole time, Canada noticed the warmth of Latvia's hand and how his entire arm seemed to be exploding at his touch. The tiny country was more asleep than awake, and Canada tugged him over to the bed. He laid him down and looked at him for a second. He was really quite nice when not terrified of Russia.

He pulled the blankets over him and tiptoed out of the room.

* * *

><p>The next mornig, Canada stretched as he woke up. "Latvia? I can make more pancakes if you want-" He stopped when he came to the quite empty and tidy guest room. "Latvia?"<p>

A single index card lay on Canada's table. Hastily he grabbed it and abosorbed the cramped, neat writing.

_Canada-_

_Figured I'd better get back to Russia's before I'm missed. I appreciate the room. Maybe we can share pancakes again someday._

_~Latvia_

Canada read the card a few times over. The only person to ever acknowledge his appearance... gone.

Maybe he truly was destined to walk this Earth alone.

Saltwater drops, exactly two, plunged in a carefree suicide mission and exploded into the floor.

* * *

><p>Under Canada's bed, there is a loose floorboard.<p>

Under that floorboard, there is a box.

In that box, there is an index card.

And on that index card, is the proof and memory of shared pancakes at midnight.


End file.
